These are strange days, in which I feel bicephalous
two identities, two personalities, two human beings
struggle within me, deep inside,
be done with my Essence.
These are strange days, very strange,
in've finally tapped into the Real World
as a piece of a puzzle fit into your family,
without effort or headaches,
simply placed in the appropriate limits,
and overlaps well embedded, forming a
Something
largest entity and presence the frugal little piece
hitherto orphan ...
These are strange days,
in which I discover I am happy doing something
always rejected with anger, disgust, pain ...
I am happy to devote much of my life to a white office,
boring
a mirror, a micro-cosmos located
in a structured universe in every detail
by invisible bosses nightmare.
are strange days ...
Past
beings still appear stealthy but
unstoppable,
and Present no longer pass before my stunned eyes dreamer
disappointed,
now ... Now it's different: I am part of the deal.
perfection I play my role in the film,
but poor fools who believe that I gave ...
From inside but I will not
machining
my
Destiny.
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